Trope Challenge: Die, Harmonicas! Die!
by Running Ninja
Summary: Sometimes, even a 3D characterization doesn't leave enough room for self-expression. The last Zelda Game has been released, Link and Zelda are finally free to discover the real world, to talk without dialogue boxes, to develop a passion for upholding the law and a passion for destroying every harmonica in existence. AU.


_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters given speaking parts in this chapter. I also do not own the Legend of Zelda, Aladdin, Mulan, Peter Pan, Pokemon, or the Mario Brothers. _

**This is part of a Trope Challenge where you go on and hit the random button five times to be given five random tropes. You then put those 5 tropes into a story. (You can opt out of tropes that do not apply to the medium of writing or aren't supported by FFN ratings.)**

**Tropes to be used in this story: Graduate from the Story, Gun Accessories, Killer Cop, Dead Horse Genre, Action Girl**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO LEVA114! This post is a birthday gift to her, and she's really awesome, so you should check her out. She writes a lot of really great AU stuff.**

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**Chapter 1:**

**Pokemon Kick-out and Arabian Take-out**

"We've graduated, Link!" Zelda yelled, her face beaming as she practically skipped up to him, joy not at all inhibited by her high heels.

"Yes," Link said, face drawn. Yes.

Zelda laughed again, not really caring if Link was emotionally despondent. Nothing could contain her joy. After a dozen game titles and countless incarnations, she had finally _graduated_. Sure, the ceremony didn't involve loftwings or a Goddess costume or a sailcloth or the opportunity to shove Link off a ledge—YES, she thought, YES—but all the same, she was _done_ with this princess thing.

She was Knight Zelda of the Armed Police now.

Armed Police. Zelda always thought that was a weird title. Were there police who _weren't_ armed?

Probably, she thought. Probably. Link, however, had had little to say on the subject. He had little to say on everything. But Zelda hoped that would change now, too. Now that they weren't scripted into repeated cycles of saving each other anymore.

"So, what now?" Link asked, watching Zelda carefully. Things were unscripted now. Unpredictable.

"Well, I feel like a costume, change," Zelda said. "Enough with the heels and the dresses and the occasional pirate or ninja stint. Camo all the way!"

Link should have raised an eyebrow. He didn't. "Camo?"

"Yes, Link. There's a whole world of things to explore, come on!" With that she dragged him off of the grounds of Nintendo Character Base.

"Whatcha doin', Zelda?" Peach asked as she spotted the two. She looked sad—the Mario characters still had several titles to finish, and between her and Mario things were getting thin. He'd been turning to the mushrooms more and more now a days.

"We're going to go SHOPPING!" Zelda exclaimed.

"Oh, lucky you," Peach managed in a very quiet voice. Zelda didn't pay her any heed, having seen plenty of characters go before herself and Link and having felt the same pain, but FINALLY not having to. Just ten more feet, and they'd be out into the _real_ world. The world where you didn't have to talk to everyone who shared your universe using canned lines that had suffered badly during translation.

They stepped off the corner, off of the pixilated hyper-green grass and unto cement. Heaven praise cement, Zelda thought. Praise, joy, and hallelujah.

Cement, Link thought. Cement.

The world smelled, Zelda realized. Car fumes and grit and street smells filled her.

"LINK!" she screamed, "THE WORLD SMELLS!"

"Yes," Link said, "Yes it does."

They were still holding hands, he realized. He wondered if Zelda was aware of this. Her eyes were wide with childish joy.

"Let's go this way!" she exclaimed, and they both ran across the street and along the sidewalk, Zelda wishing it was physically possible for a neck to crane farther up and farther around to stare at everything. It was a city unlike anything in 2D or 3D Zelda. It had smells and tastes and people just _spoke_, they didn't have dialogue boxes.

On a corner they were stopped by a knee-high yellow and brown zig-zag tailed Pokémon wearing a gangster hat. "Pikachu," it said.

"Oh, how cute!" Zelda exclaimed. "Look Link, it's Pikachu! You fought him in Super Smash Brothers!"

"Yes," Link said, "Yes I did."

"Gimme your money, pika."

"WHAT? Pikachu, just try saying that to the princess of Hyrule ONE. MORE. TIME."

"You ain't princess here, bitch," Pikachu said.

Zelda let out a war-cry and proceeded to drop kick Pikachu.

Link watched the Pokémon fly and strange thoughts began to form in his brain.

"Come on, Link," Zelda said, "I need better shoes if I'm going to have to drop kick that punk again."

And with that, she dragged him off for a round of shopping.

Zelda emerged in combat boots, a black tank, a camo jacket, and cargo pants, braids undone and a fury in her eyes. Link settled for cargos and a tee. But by the end of the afternoon, Zelda had enrolled them in tae kwon do, at the urging that if once innocent Pokémon tried to mug princesses in this strange new world, they better be able to defend themselves. The lessons were mostly for her, as Link had been taught parkour in preparation for his new Skyward Sword moves. But he learned, as she beat the stuffing out of reinforced leather punching bags, that she was a very formidable enemy. Very formidable. She'd barely even tapped her potential as Sheik.

Before the day was up, they checked in at the Armed Police headquarters to get their uniform measurements and verify that they hadn't been taken down by misdemeaning Pokémon. Shortly after they headed toward the Nintendo District, to their prearranged apartment in the Hyrule ghettos. Hobo moblins of at least 5 game designs sat around puffing on cigarettes Zelda hoped weren't rolled with Tinker Dust from the Disney District. As they unlocked their apartment and Link opened the empty fridge out of hope, Zelda made up her mind. "As Armed Police officer, my first task will be to clean up the Nintendo district," she said, "This is unspeakable."

"We aren't in Nintendo Character Base anymore," Link said, his voice completely monotone. It was possible he hadn't figured out how to emote yet. "Do you want to get takeout? I hear Aladdin's in the Disney District has some great Arabian food."

"Sure," Zelda said, splayed out across the bed, staring at the dingy ceiling.

"Alright," Link said, "I'll be back soon."

With that he left Zelda to her thoughts. Her increasingly angry, I-need-to-improve-the-world thoughts.

Link walked past the smoking moblins and the bokoboblins dealing fabulous underwear, hands in his pockets, wondering how one got a gun license in this town. His back needed the weight of a weapon. He left the Nintendo District, asked for, and received directions to Aladdin's from a miniature red dragon bickering with a cricket. He stepped beneath the colorful tent and was asked where he would like to sit by the only non-ginger waitress in the place, who had a tiger curled at her feet. "I'd like to order takeout for two," he said.

She nodded. "I realize you're new here, Link, is it?" she said, "But for future reference we generally take to-go orders from the back. Follow me."

With that she led him through the diners, who were sitting on pillows on the floor. He didn't feel embarrassed at his blunder. There were only so many things a Hylian could get right in their first day in the real world. Only so many things.

Down a back hallway, she reached a sign labeled "take-out orders" and rang the bell. A parrot appeared. A cussing parrot.

Because of the aforementioned bird's hideous language, we will not include any of his dialogue for the sake of ratings. We like to keep things relatively PG. Or K+, whatever you prefer. He was significantly more rude than Pikachu. It was very good thing Zelda was along.

But Link managed to walk off with something Jasmine affirmed that "a Hylian would like". With all the Gerudo waitresses bearing both rich dessert food on platters and the gaze of every man in the room but Link, the not-actually-an-elf figured they'd designed a few dishes for the estranged Hylian.

Link's mouth watered as he carried his burden back through the streets, where a Bulbasaur glared at him but made no move of attack. How odd, he thought, that in the world of his fabrication walking through the tall grass got you money, but to Pokémon walking through the tall grass meant you were game to be attacked.

It was as he turned down a side street that he felt emotion for the first time since his graduation. And that emotion was rage.

He heard a sound, no, not even a sound, an _abomination_, that made his blood boil.

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**Hey, Thanks for reading! This will be a multi-chapter project, as I haven't really used 4 of the 5 tropes...but since I'm doing NaNoWriMo, I don't have a timeframe, but I really enjoy writing in this style. That, said, did you find it funny? Please leave a review!**


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